


Why?

by marvelaf



Series: Home #1 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Arguments, Deaf Clint Barton, Foster Care, M/M, everyone is angry...kinda, everyones got trust issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelaf/pseuds/marvelaf
Summary: After spending time with Steve, Bucky just wants a shower, but Bucky never gets what he wants. Continuation of Home #1
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Phil Coulson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Home #1 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567540
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Idea of Us (is stronger than we are)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272924) by [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky). 



> Hi! Thanks for attempting to read this. Sorry It's so short, but these are very important conversations. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is not a stand-alone fic! You must read the first chapters to understand this.

The walk back to the house was almost nice. The residual happiness Steve left on him made the people staring out of car windows seem less important. The pity filled glances at the poor amputee passed off as curiosity in Bucky’s eyes.  _ Today might not be a total waste. _

Coming up upon the house, Bucky can feel the tension in the air, something that has seemingly become a trend with he’s been at this house. He kneels down, taking a spot outside the door and presses his ear up to the dark wood. 

“Nat is finally doing so well! She hasn’t had a relapse in years! Do you want her to relapse again?” Clint yells. Mr. Coulson sighs loudly.

“Natasha has never had a relapse while living with us and you know it. But if I really thought that having James here would cause problems for either of you, he wouldn’t be here,” Mr. Coulson states firmly.  _ That’s fair, but ouch. _

“She’s going to get hurt again. And when she does, I’m going to blame you,” Clint says, his voice low and angry.

“No. She won’t get hurt, we won’t let that happen. I’m telling you, James isn’t a threat to her. At all.” Mr. Coulson says, and Bucky can basically hear Clint roll his eyes. 

“And what about me?” 

“What about you?” Mr. Coulson asks, quieter than before. 

“How do you know him being here won’t hurt me?” Clint says, his voice cracking a bit. 

“Clint, what’s this all about? Really?” Mr. Coulson asks, his voice shifting from an argumentative tone to a soft comforting one that even puts Bucky at ease. There are a few moments of silence before Clint responds. It’s uneasy as if the tension in the room isn’t a new one, but an old one. One that’s been festering and boiling under the surface for some time now. 

“I want to see Barney,” Clint states, his shaky voice and trembling lip doing its best to seem strong.  _ What the hell is a Barney? _

“No.” 

“But-”

“No. I told him to stay out of trouble if he wanted to keep seeing you. I told him that and I told you that.” Mr. Coulson says. 

“You don’t get it!” Clint cries out.

“I get it just fine. He got arrested, again, breaking our deal. We have to hold up our side, Clint. I’m sorry, but seeing Barney is out of the equation. Right now all you need to focus on archery, and maybe being a little bit nicer to James.”

“I’m eighteen now, you can’t keep telling me what to do,” Clint sneers. 

“I can’t, you’re right. But I’m asking you nicely, this is what’s best for you Clint,” Mr. Coulson says.

“Thanks for deciding that for me. And don’t think for a second that I don’t see through your little scheme, bringing James here,” Clint laughs. Mr. Coulson groans.

“There is no scheme, Clint. Did I think having another boy in the house would maybe help you? Yes,” Bucky can hear Clint open his mouth and start before Mr. Coulson cuts him off, “But! That’s not the reason I decided to foster again! We have the resources, the time, and the space to help another child in need, just like when I decided to take Natasha in too,” Mr. Coulson says. 

“What are you doing out here?” Natasha says, startling Bucky from behind and his heart nearly jumps out through his throat. The young girl stands with her hands on her hips, looking down at Bucky with a smirk. 

“What’s going on in there?” Bucky asks quietly, pointing his thumb towards the door while standing to his full height. The argument can still be heard from the outside, but without his ear pressed against the door, Bucky can’t make out any specific words about how he’s Mr. Coulson’s newest charity case. 

“Like I said yesterday, Clint’s stressed,” Natasha says as if she’s bored.

“Yeah, I can hear that. Who’s Barney?” Bucky asks, his mind still trying to put together all these new puzzle pieces. 

“That’s not my story to tell,” Natasha sighs, glancing down at her nails.  _ How the fuck am I supposed to live with these people if they don’t tell me anything? _

“Well, it’s not like me and Clint are gonna have a heart to heart anytime soon.”

“Then maybe you’re not meant to know it.” 

Slowly but surely, Bucky feels all the good energy Steve left in him drain out into a puddle on the porch. White-hot, fiery rage takes its place. 

“You know, you and Clint really fuck up this whole welcome wagon bullshit Mr. Coulson’s pulling,” Bucky growls. Natasha flicks her eyes up to his and frowns slightly. 

“Clint and I, we protect each other. The things he’s stuck with me through,” Natasha pauses, her eyes glazing over as if the memories of the past are the only thing running through her mind, “he’s earned my trust, and somehow I earned his. He’s all freaked out over everything, and now it’s my responsibility to help him out.” 

“And how am I supposed to earn your trust, huh? Because all the both of you have done is treat me like shit! I’m over it!” Bucky whisper-yells. 

“I believe you’re the one who said ‘one month’, right?” Natasha scoffs, “why the hell should we open ourselves up if you’re just going to leave. The last thing Clint needs is another person he cares about leaving him.”

“We’ve all got attachment issues, I don’t see how any of that allows you to treat me like shit. Hell, your friends Tony, and Steve, were the most welcoming people I’ve met so far,” Bucky chuckles angrily. Natasha’s hands clench and unclench by her side, and suddenly Bucky’s fire is dampened, little firemen run around his brain extinguishing him and it’s as if he’s pulled from the fire, considerably lighter.  _ Why did I start this?  _

“Look, I’m sorry about last night, not everyone is into that type of thing. I should have warned you about that, so, I’m sorry that’s on me,” the young girl says with a vulnerability in her eyes. Proof of meaning, not caring that Bucky felt okay with the situation. 

“Why do you guys hate me? You have no idea who I am? How can you hate someone you don’t even know?” Bucky cries out.  _ Control yourself, idiot.  _

“I don’t hate you. Clint doesn’t hate  _ you _ either. He would have been this way with any kid that came into the house. He has routines, routines that keep him sane and busy enough that he doesn’t have to think about what’s got him stressed out. And then you come and Phil’s up too early cooking you a breakfast that you don’t even eat, mind you,” Natasha takes a deep breath before starting again, “So, Phil’s up too early and he’s awake when Clint wakes up, but Clint is supposed to be the one to make the coffee in the morning because he has a special way of making it and he won’t drink it otherwise. So now Clint can’t drink the coffee he drinks every morning, and his favorite mug is sitting in the sink, dirty, instead of in the cupboard where it usually is. Then he’s got to go archery practice with no caffeine-”

“Okay! I get it, you can stop,” Bucky yells, his breaths heaving, “So Clint’s freaked because of me. It’s my fault?” 

“Not entirely.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” 

“I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself. You wanted the truth and I gave it to you. Look, this is a conversation you need to have with Clint. I’m not gonna tell you about all his trauma, it’s not my place,” Natasha smiles sadly. 

“And what about you?” Bucky asks. 

“What about me?” 

“You’re great at making a conversation about what you want. I want to know why you don’t want me here,” Bucky demands. The scowl planted on Natasha’s lips could kill if Bucky wasn’t so determined. 

“Sit down,” Natasha motions to the two rocking chairs off to the side.  _ I just touched a nerve, didn’t I? _

“I was born in Russia,” Natasha starts, and Bucky tries to keep all traces of emotions off his face, “My biological parents were drug dealers, mostly meth. They cooked it in the apartment apparently and nearly blew the whole building up. Turns out cooking meth in a small apartment building with your infant isn’t the smartest idea. So we all get to the hospital, and I started going through withdrawals. I had a stroke, I was just over a year old, and I had a stroke,” Natasha pauses, her eyes watery and her voice becoming progressively raspier. 

“A fucking stroke,” She laughs. Bucky’s hand fidgets in his lap. “The people who were supposed to love and care for me most gave me a fucking stroke. So I’m sorry if I don’t trust you after knowing you for a whole day,” Natasha bites, but the heat on her voice is set to low. 

“Understandable.” 

“Good.”

There’s a long silence, and Bucky knows it should be his turn to tell all his deepest darkest secrets, but he can’t. Once he starts, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to stop thinking about it, to stop crying over it, to stop feeling the pain in his ugly stump. 

“Well, I smell, so, I’m going to shower now,” Bucky stutters, standing up abruptly. The voices inside are gone so Bucky deems it safe to go back. 

“Just-” Natasha starts, “Please don’t tell Steve or Tony any of that, considering how friendly  _ they _ are to you.” 

“Yeah, of course, Natasha,” Bucky says, his hand stuck on the doorknob. 

“Nat,” She smiles softly.

“Nat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for enjoying! Remember, writers live off kudos and comments, so be sure to let me know if you liked this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr at [marvel-af](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/marvel-af)


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